by M D Cooper
“Smugglers expect to get paid, regardless of friendships.”
“We did recently come into a good deal of money.”
Terry’s heart dropped. She knew where he was going with the statement, and she knew she agreed. At the same time, though, that money was supposed to seed her new lease on life.
All for the greater good, right?
“The proceeds from the weapons sales,” she said.
“Yeah. I can’t ask you to—”
“You don’t need to. It’s what needs to be done.”
He nodded. “We’ll have plenty of future opportunities to make a new fortune, if this plan works out. In the meantime, we can use that money to pay for supplies and delivery for the most important protest groups so they can extend the strike. We won’t be able to fund them for too long, but the houses won’t want to drag this out. The important thing will be that we provided a means to help the people while the existing leadership tried to shut them down.”
“True sides will be shown the moment we show up. The house leaders might want to end it then and there.”
“We’ll see soon enough.”
* * * * *
Pharis anxiously counted the intervals between her check-ins with Cyrus. With each passing hour, the protests were growing larger, and the people more vocal. Soldiers had been recalled from patrols in space to control the crowds, leaving the moon’s nearspace emptier than it ideally should be. She hadn’t intended to put the security of the moon at risk when she’d agreed to the plan.
If only Mother would see reason and support the people rather than try to fight this revolt.
They weren’t even asking for much. It was crazy to Pharis that her mother took such great offense at granting a few days off, raising wages, and allowing more flexibility for career paths. Such rights were what she’d expect from any civilized society.
Seeing just how much resistance there was to such modest improvements, Pharis realized how critical it was she didn’t back down. Serenity needed this revolution even more than she’d realized.
A knock on her door roused her from her thoughts.
“Come in,” she bid.
Greta entered.
Pharis put on an innocent, charming smile despite her nerves upon seeing her mother’s advisor. “To what do I owe this visit?”
“Are you apprised of the situation developing at the docks?”
I’ve been watching it every second since it started. Pharis shrugged. “I’m aware of it.”
Greta’s eyes narrowed. “Do you think this is funny?”
“Oh, no. There’s no humor in the situation at all.”
“Forgive me, my lady, but I can’t help feeling like this is a joke to you.”
Pharis glared at the older woman.
The two had never gotten along particularly well, and Pharis suspected that much of that had to do with how Greta always seemed to find fault with Pharis’s actions. She was certain that many of her mother’s lackluster feelings about her charity initiatives and other projects, in fact, stemmed from Greta’s impressions.
She’d served House Charlemis for many years, and had seen the rise and fall of political alliances. After such an experience, she was loyal to a fault—seeing only the house’s well-being in terms of the family, rather than taking into account the larger political context as a governing body on the moon. While the singular thinking did keep Pharis and the rest of her family out of harm’s way, she saw the problems in Greta’s way of thinking.
Greta was supposed to help navigate the complicated political landscape as an advisor, but her evaluations only took into account the political dealings of other highborn. It was a common mistake in Serenity, as far as Pharis saw, with the elite completely discounting the collective power of the working class.
In most cases, other houses were the larger threat, so Pharis hadn’t pressed her mother to get a more open-minded advisor. Now, though, Greta would be one of Pharis’s greatest hindrances to getting her mother to see reason about how to handle the workers’ strike.
“I think I’m the only one who sees this situation for what it is,” Pharis replied to the advisor.
Greta scoffed. “You’ve been bent on raining chaos down on this moon since you were a teenager.”
“Do you really believe that’s what this is? Chaos?” Pharis shook her head. “You’re even more clueless than I feared.”
“What else can one call it when people are storming the streets in masses, neglecting their work, and making demands?”
“Peaceful assembly?”
“There’s nothing peaceful about it! They’re calling for a transition of power.”
“Using only their voices,” Pharis said. “I haven’t seen anyone turn violent in the slightest.”
“Only because the Guard is there.”
No, that’s ultimately going to make this worse.
Pharis took a steadying breath. “It’s time we listen to our people. We still have a chance to keep it peaceful.”
Greta sighed. “I warned your mother about letting you spend too much time with commoners. You’ve grown soft.”
“Caring about other people isn’t a fault.”
“It is when you’re trying to run an empire.”
“No, the people should come first.”
The advisor threw up her hands. “I don’t know why I bother trying to reason with you. There’s no point.”
“I was just thinking the same thing about you.”
Greta spun on her heel and headed for the door. “Your mother wants to speak with you. I’d hoped I could get you in the correct frame of mind before the discussion, but I see that my efforts were wasted.”
I need to get her to back down, or I’ll never have a chance at swaying Mother.
“I’m quite open-minded,” Pharis said. “As with any business dealing, we’ll need to engage in the great art of compromise.”
“That shouldn’t be necessary within your own family.”
“Easy for you to say, since you say whatever you think Mother wants to hear.”
“I would never—”
“Oh, you pander to her every chance you get. It’s been going on for so long, you might not even realize you’re doing it.”
“My duty is to provide an informed opinion. If that happens to coincide with Lady Justina’s own viewpoints, so be it.”
“You’ve made a great team, directing us toward our doom.”
“Pharis!” Greta snapped in a tone she hadn’t used since Pharis was a child.
She smiled back, calm and prim on the outside despite her annoyance churning within. “That’s Lady Pharis.”
Wisely, Greta continued into the corridor without turning around.
Pharis trailed her at a slight distance all the way to her mother’s office.
Unlike the salon where they typically met, the office had all the markings of a functional business space. A large, U-shaped desk was arranged to take advantage of the view out the windows on the back wall, while a separate conference table provided meeting space for up to eight attendees, and a compact seating area near the door offered a space for more intimate conversation.
Justina was seated at the desk, and made no sign of relocating. Her expression would be considered unreadable to anyone not familiar with her disposition, but Pharis knew her well enough to see that she was furious.
“You may leave us,” Justina stated in a level tone to Greta.
The advisor bowed her head and backed out of the room, closing the door behind her.
At least we can meet one-on-one.
Pharis took a seat in one of the guest chairs near her mother’s desk, and waited to be spoken to.
“Did you have a hand in this?” her mother asked.
Based on the timing, Pharis could infer that she meant the protests. She thought momentarily about outright denying it, but there was no point.
Pharis kept her face serene. “You know I have always encouraged others to speak up when
they have something to say.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“I did not encourage a strike, but I did voice my opinion that I believe people deserve their due,” she stated.
“You will be our undoing.”
Pharis folded her hands in her lap. “Just because things change, it doesn’t mean that they’re ‘undone’. I didn’t want to take action without your buy-in, but I couldn’t sit idly while I saw us going down the path to destruction. What’s going on with Jeslan now—”
“That is my concern as the leader of this house. I was going to deal with the situation in my own way, and now you’ve tied my hands.”
“We have the opportunity to lead Serenity into a new era, united with our people. It can be a model for everyone else.”
“I can no longer feign patience with your idealistic prattling.”
“I’m sorry you think of it that way. Our people certainly feel otherwise.”
“Yes, of course they’d soak up whatever you have to say while you make promises for things without understanding their cost. Tell me, where will the funds for these improvements you so desperately want to make come from?”
“We and the rest of the houses have more than enough excess—”
“Do we? Is that a fact?” her mother asked flatly. “If you’d ever bothered to attend the financial briefings, as I’ve asked you to so many times, you’d appreciate that wealth is not always what it appears to be.”
She hesitated. “What do you mean?”
Justina brushed her hair away from her forehead. “I had no intention of getting into this with you now.”
“If not now, then when? Help me understand the full scope of the situation so I can find a solution.”
“You’ve already destroyed our way out.”
“What are you talking about?” Pharis couldn’t keep the sharp edge from her tone this time.
“The short answer is that House Charlemis hasn’t been around for as long as the other houses at the High Table. As you know, we assumed Thermodes’s seat. When our ancestors made the arrangement to ascend, we were left indebted to the other Great Houses. Nebracken, most of all.
“Paying those debts has always left us less…well-off than the other houses with similar standing. As long as we kept our heads down, we were able to maintain our position. House Laurentia has always had our back financially, despite the feuds that sometimes surfaced. Even then, they offered a degree of protection from the other houses.
“Since Anastasia’s removal from power, that alliance no longer stands as it once did. Jeslan’s partnership with Silvan was a calculated move to ensure us protection from the other houses by falling under Nebracken’s guardianship. Unfortunately, Jeslan rushed the process and put us in a compromised position. It was supposed to be rolled out slowly and with relationships carefully handled, but her rash actions have now made it look like we’re posturing for an offensive—even though the end product of an alliance is the same as we’d planned.
“Now, your little revolt has left our nearspace compromised, our ports shut down, and everyone in the system will see us as an easy target to remove and replace. So that, Pharis, is what you have done. I hope you’re satisfied with yourself.”
Pharis sat in stunned silence for several seconds. “I didn’t know,” she finally managed.
“Because you only listen to what you want to hear. I know you mean well, I do, but your actions were short-sighted and have potentially started an unstoppable cascade of events.”
“We don’t need Nebracken to get out of this,” Pharis said. “Cyrus and I have worked out a plan with Laurentia—”
“You can’t trust anything Kristina says,” her mother cut in. “She’s in an even more desperate situation than we are. She’ll say anything. They were once able to offer us protection, but that time has long since passed. And the civilians you were so insistent could grant us power can’t do a damned thing against the military might of our would-be conquerors.”
“If what you said is true—”
“It is.”
“Then the only course of action is forward, following the events I’ve set in motion. While our people might not be able to stand up to other soldiers, the other moons could easily find themselves in the same position we’re in now. Shutting down ports, restricting supply distribution… We accomplish that elsewhere, and it levels the playing field. Then, the people will hold the power, and whoever can make the most compelling case as a prospective leader will win their favor.”
“I told you, we’re beyond that kind of idealistic thinking.”
“No, it’s not idealistic because it can and will work. You just need to give me a chance. I’ve looked our people in their eyes, and I know this is the right way forward. They’re passionate. They’re ready for this kind of change. We just need to show them that this is the right time for action.”
“I can’t, Pharis. Not with everything we’ve built being put at risk.”
“Yet you’re willing to sell your soul to Nebracken?”
“Our ancestors did that a long time ago. I’m just paying the debt.”
“I can’t go along with that.”
“So you’ve said. My patience is wearing thin with your insolence.”
Pharis threw up her hands. “You’ve already said we’re all but doomed because of my actions, so what do you have to lose from trying things my way?”
“Everything.” Her mother’s eyes narrowed. “Fall in line, Pharis, or you’ll soon find out what happens to people who turn against this family.”
CAN’T STOP NOW
STELLAR DATE: 12.24.8938 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: Celestiana, near Gallas, Serenity System
REGION: Orion Freedom Alliance, Perseus Arm
When Cyrus had first bought into Terry’s plan to rally the workers and spark a revolution, he’d truly wanted to believe it was possible. Even so, he’d given the plan a low chance of success, expecting another impetus would be required to introduce a new system of governance in Serenity.
Never did he imagine that he’d actually be funding a civilian revolt with his own money, let alone be a face of that movement.
As they watched the latest news broadcast on Gallas, Terry grinned next to him. “They’re doing it! I think we’re going to actually win this thing.”
“I don’t want to get too excited yet. There’s still a lot that can happen.”
“Your mom needs to come around. How can she not when she sees this?”
“Last time I spoke to Pharis, things didn’t sound good on that front.” He checked the time. “Speaking of which, it’s time for the next check-in.”
“All right, I’ll see you soon.”
Cyrus gave her a quick kiss. “Stay out of trouble.”
She gave him a playful smile. “Better not be gone for too long.”
“I won’t be.”
If nothing else, at least Pharis didn’t seem to be in immediate danger, as Cyrus had feared when they’d parted ways and she’d returned to the family manor. He wanted to believe that their mother would never harm her own daughter, but worse things had been known to happen in the houses. So until the situation was fully resolved, he intended to keep checking in with Pharis to make sure she was still okay. Beyond caring about her as his sister, she was critical to their plans.
He settled into his cabin and called Pharis on her secure connection. When she answered, her expression was even more drawn and serious than during their last talk.
“Did something happen?” he asked, skipping pleasantries.
Pharis worked her mouth. “I think I messed up.”
She launched into a hurried recap of her latest conversation with their mother, and what she’d learned about the tenuous financial and political situation of the family.
Cyrus’s heart sank as he took it in, realizing that Pharis wouldn’t have nearly the kind of capital—both in terms of relationships and money—that he thought she’d have at he
r disposal if she came into power.
Pharis wiped her hands down her face and massaged her eyes. “I don’t know what to do.”
“I hate to say it, but this news doesn’t actually change anything.”
“That’s what I told Mother, but…”
“Don’t start doubting now, Pharis. We’re in too deep,” he said when his sister faded out.
She nodded slowly. “I’m not doubting. I guess I’m just feeling like I’m in over my head. I mean, I knew I was from the get-go, but I can’t believe there was so much I didn’t know. How could Mother keep that information from me?”
“She has a bit of a control problem, if you haven’t noticed.”
“Even still.”
“Yeah,” he admitted. “Honestly, I am shocked that she kept that much to herself.”
“Worse, did she tell Jeslan? They were clearly conspiring to get her with Silvan.”
“Just because that was planned, it doesn’t mean Mother told Jeslan why the partnership was important. More likely than not, Jeslan volunteered to meet with him when things didn’t work out with you and Silvan.”
Pharis grimaced. “Jeslan does like to show how much better than me she is at every opportunity. But willingly being with that monster… I don’t get it.”
“I’m trying not to think about it, myself.”
“Yes, we have much more pressing concerns. Namely, the strikes still haven’t spread much beyond Gallas, and the coverage is far from complete. To get leverage, we need the houses to not have other mobility options.”
“Yes, we need something to push it over the edge,” Cyrus agreed.
He hadn’t wanted to think about the situation too much because it had felt like needless worrying. Movements took time to build, and they had already accomplished more, faster, than he’d expected. Given the new information relayed by Pharis, however, there wasn’t any time to waste.
“The funds you provided seemed to do the trick last time,” Pharis said.
“And we do not have the resources to do that again, especially after what you just told me.”
“Did you have something else in mind?”